


CODENAME: Ronin (Clint Barton x Reader Story)

by Whiskma



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gender Neutral, Implied Sexual Activity, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8746300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskma/pseuds/Whiskma
Summary: After a physical and mental fallout of a failed mission, Agent Ronin has found themselves falling in and out of consciousness. Their wounds are grave, and their mentality is blurred. They occasionally hear voices, two that they want to hear more often, one their partner. Reader is Gender Neutral. I am not going to be specific with details, and I promise I won't go too far one way or the other. :)





	1. Mission Deployed

S.H.I.E.L.D Recovery Unit

Current Time: 23:34

Time passed since incident: 6 days

"Agent Barton, they need their rest, you cannot just enter their quarters without proper permission,"

"Director Fury has given me special permission, that should be enough,"

"And how do I know you're not lying to just see them?"

Time Prior to the Incident: 1 Month ago

Specific Time: 15:56

You held your blade to the light, inspecting it with your precision eyes. It glistened with cleanliness, something you prided yourself on when it came to your weapons. You placed your cleaning cloth down and grabbed your sheath, carefully placing your blade in. You moved your weapon to the side, examining your copious amount of second hand weaponry. Your pistol selection was limited, you were partial to rifles, but you picked up two Colt M1911 pistols from your selection, checking the cartridges, and laying them down next to your blade. You scanned the plethora of different areas you may need for this particular mission. You grabbed a sash belt consisting of four knives. One near your shoulder, one located at your hip, one directly on your torso, and the other hidden at the small of your back. Your eyes quickly scanned your selection before you exited your little “weaponry room”. Level 4 and up are allowed to have their own weapons to signify their specialties. You had a small variety, hence your prep room size.

You clicked closed a case enclosing your special items, even your beloved M98B sniper rifle. The mission required stealth, and only close combat if necessary. And with the best marksman, and accomplished Avenger, being your teammate, you knew he would appreciate the sentiment.

You shouldered your case, walking out of your private living quarters with a slower pretense than you thought you would have. Missions never bothered you, even when you became infatuated with Agent Barton. There you go again. Being overly professional. You sighed lightly as you walked down the hall of the living quarters. This mission could be very dangerous, but why were you suddenly thinking of this now? You shook your head, already annoyed with your emotions. It was Barton. He was higher level than you, but that didn’t stop you from feeling like absolutely anything bad could happen to him. It was so silly, wasn’t it? You both knew the risks when you joined, so you both know that anything could happen. It was your new relationship that was bothering your prepping psyche. Of course whenever you were just comrades, you still had worry, but it was more expected worry than anything. Now it was love. How you hated it sometimes. It was just that Clint opened you up, like you opened him up. It was like a match made in heaven.

You looked up to find yourself in front of Agent Ba-- _Clint’s_ private living quarters. You even noticed your hand raised to knock. You couldn't help but falter, you weren’t just worried for him, you were frightened over him.

“Thought I might find you here,” You turned your head to the side, finding it easier to smile.

“Tasha, it’s good to see you,” You turned towards her, hands in your pockets. “Did you need something?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“I can just tell by the look on your face Clint has something to do with your wandering,” Natasha, shook her head at your groan. You two were great friends, but boy you hated it when she analyzed you.

“Alright,” You pulled your hands out of your pockets, lifting them slightly to your sides. “Lay it on me. What psychological terms are you going to use this time? I’d like to look them up in the dictionary to know what the hell you mean,” You let your arms falls, your palms smacked your thighs in a huff.

“Well,” Natasha said, “I’ll just put it plainly: Your recent relationship with Clint is starting to affect your mind more than you anticipated. It’s not just friendly care anymore. It’s love,” Natasha chuckled at your expression of minor exasperation, and hugged you. She was slightly surprised at how quickly you hugged her back.

“Is there any advice you can give me?” You spoke very softly, allowing Natasha to see more than what you had just displayed.

“You can’t push the subject onto him, and you can’t let him be your only thoughts. It’s very difficult to just leave it be, but you must,” Natasha pulled away from the embrace, holding your arms, “This mission is highly dangerous, but Clint has performed many others like it before. Trust his judgement on what to do and how to proceed,” That wasn’t exactly what you were grasping for but you thanked her anyways.

Specific Time: 16:18

The Quinjet was a small, compared to the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D'S toys, vessel mainly used for tactful and offensive Avenger missions. You had only met the team a few times, you mainly stayed around Clint and Natasha on those rare occasions. Steve was a great guy, but a little too serious for a meeting with friends. Bruce was nice and quiet, quite reserved, very much the counterpart of… yeah. Tony had made you laugh on more than one visit when he took cracks at the others, and you even got a good one on him when he started on Clint. It’s safe to say Tony won’t mess with Clint while you are in the vicinity. And Thor… gave you the biggest… enveloping hug in your life, at learn he called you a “Warrior of Secrets”. You set your weapons case down on a shelf, buckling it so nothing would be harmed if you met turbulence. There was another case on the same shelf, it was Clint's bow case. His quiver was always strapped in with his bow, it was no different when you kept a few cartridges of bullets in your own case.

“Ah dammit,” You spun around, surprised to see Clint, himself, drop down into the Quinjet’s main deck. He looked displeased about something. “I was told that the cloaking device was going to--” Clint looked over to where you presided, unsure how he should react to see you just nonchalantly standing in the Quinjet. “Well hello,” You said. Clint waved at you, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” He told you, “Just a little unhappy about some technological advances with the new system,” Clint briskly walked over to the jet’s main computer, typing in a command of some kind, he groaned in annoyance. “I hate this new tech.”

“Let me have a go at it,” You looked at the command he entered, he was trying to activate the Quinjet’s cloaking technology. “Go outside and stand in front of the jet, I’ll see if I can use the new consol,” Clint was out the door before you even finished. It was off putting, to say the least. You hoped everything was okay as you typed away on the new keys. After your fifth attempt you growled. “Just activate the damn device!” The screen sprang to life, opening several menus at once, showing all the different devices the Quinjet had to offer. You blinked. “A-activate the cloaking device?” You heard a soft whirring around you, and looked out the pilot's window to find a bemused Hawkeye.

Specific Time: 19:47

“Computer, activate Auto-pilot,” Clint lifted the headset from his ears, placing the gently on the seat as he stood up. He glanced to them as they read through the different files on the Quinjet’s monitor. This mission was very dangerous, high profiles all throughout the complex. S.H.I.E.L.D was stretched thin with all the recent H.Y.D.R.A attacks. Clint crossed his arms, contemplating the mission objective. Infiltrate a large H.Y.D.R.A facility, hijack the camps major computer, transfer any useful information over to S.H.I.E.L.D, and assassinate one of H.Y.D.R.A’s many leaders. Sounded like a piece of Hell Cake. They needed so many more than just him and (Y/n). And they couldn’t wait any longer on the pursuit, either. Fury had special Intel that told him H.Y.D.R.A planned to attack close to home. Fury had been checking every agent from every level, Clint and (Y/n) were cleared. Only cleared agents went on missions.

Clint wrapped his arms around their torso, pecking their neck. They leaned their head back onto Clint’s shoulder, sighing. One of the many things that made their relationship work was quiet, ask questions later. It always worked. Clint checked the time and counted down the hours of arrival. It wasn’t that the Quinjet was slow, it was the fact that the cloaking device could malfunction at higher speeds. That was why Clint was so pissed that afternoon.

“Computer, how long will it take to get to our destination?” Clint softly spoke, the screen told him twelve more hours. “That’s enough time for a break, (Y/n),” They pressed something on the keys and made the whole project disappear from view. Clint kissed their cheek and they smiled, but only for a moment as they turned their head to him.

“Clint, how long will this break be? I need to learn every available advantage w--” Their speech broke off as Clint snuck his lips onto theirs. (Y/n) exhaled when Clint broke the gentile kiss.

“Now, Agent (L/n),” He said, “I’ll have no professionalism just yet.” Clint pointed over to the pilot’s head in the Quinjet, showing (Y/n) a dim sign that read “Danger Zone," Clint look back at you, “Until that starts blinking, I want no talk of this mission,” he met their gaze, “We have an entire mission to be professional for.”

“Alright, what do you suggest we do then?” (Y/n) inquired. Clint, for one after such a question, held no mischievous glint in his eyes. He picked (Y/n) up, giving them a nuzzle, and called up to the computer.

“Computer, where’s the bed?” Clint looked (Y/n) as they laughed. “What?”

“Computer,” They said, “Please push out the bed in the seating section of the jet,” (Y/n) laughed at Clint’s annoyed expression. He set them down on the freshly made bed, crawling to be over them, legs entrapped around theirs. He raised an eyebrow, the glint returning to his eyes.

“Remember the first time I had you like this?” He asked them. (Y/n) began to blush furiously.

Personal Training Room B9

2 years ago

_Clint fired a headless arrow, which you narrowly dodged. This was an offensive exercise, and since Clint could fire arrows as fast as a normal marksman could fire bullets. Which was also good and bad for exercises. You lifted a wooden version of the katana you possessed, chopping it where the neck and shoulder meet. However, Clint had already pulled out a blunted pole the size of a normal swiss army knife. He struck your diaphragm, mimicking where an enemy may strike. You smirked._

_“I still got you,” You twirled the wooden katana to your side, flicking it straight. Clint raised his eyebrows._

_“Oh sure, you got me, but you just put the mission at more risk. There are two other operatives that don’t have as much experience as you do,” Clint shrugged nonchalantly, “But at least you got me,” You hissed lightly under your breath. It had taken you almost a year to rank up, and your boyfriend had done nothing but demean you at every turn you took to get better. But it occurred to you that he was just getting you riled so you would keep trying even harder every time. It was so vexing._

_“Let’s do it again, and this time, don’t hold back,” You furrowed your brow to try and look determined, truth was, you were very tired. Clint looked at you quizzically._

_"You’re drenched in sweat, thank God you don’t stink like it,” He shook his head as he turned around. You didn’t like that answer._

_You spun a resounding kick towards Clint’s head, quite surprised when he ducked out of the way. Following through with your assault, you side-stepped, jumping away from a sweeping leg of Clint Barton. He took no time to put you on your best defense. Clint rushed your stagnant form, he swiped an opened hand across your cheek, catching you by genuine surprise. That surprise turned to anger in a split-second. You tackled Clint, the both of you hitting the ground with a thud. You pinned him down, hands on his wrists and a glare of a thousand icicles. He blinked up at you._

_“Nice job,” Clint went to get up, but your strength didn’t diminish. He met your glare with confusion. “Wha--”_

_“You slapped me,” was all you said. He raised an eyebrow._

_“Yes, I did. And you pinned me. Do you want a medal?” Clint cocked his head at you. “Why?” Your monotone didn’t seem to affect Clint in the slightest._

_“To show you that not every enemy will resort to a specific fighting style. Whether on purpose or by fear, your enemy will react,” Clint tried, once again, to get up, this time meeting your glare with one of his own. “What?” he said, exasperated._

_“You fuckin’ **slapped** me, you **ass**!” Clint twisted his wrists to falter your grip, then grabbed yours. He pivoted his hips to pushed you off balance, and kicked off the ground. He landed right on top of you, your wrists in his hands, and his knees at your hips. You squirmed to try and get away, doing everything you your power to try and get away, but he had you. You bucked your hips once. And, it seemed, that at this moment, you noticed something. Your face beamed with red, your eyes widened, and you immediately stopped moving. Clint didn’t seem to notice, but was enjoying the look on your face. Damn that man._

_“What’s wrong? Did you not expect me to be able to flip you over?” That was not it. When you didn’t respond, Clint only had to look down at the both of your positions. He looked into your eyes, and grinned. Clint lowered his hips ever so slightly, making your face hotter than you thought was possible. He relished at your embarrassment. You finally got the courage to squirm again, but it was only your shoulders and head that moved._

_"Okay, Clint. You made your point, now get off,” Your voice was much higher than you had meant it to be. Clint lowered his head, hovering over your lips, it drove you insane. He spoke in a deep and guttural manner that made you melt._

_“What’s the point if I get off now? I may never get to see you like this again,” He angled his head to only get a small portion of your bottom lip, “And I gotta say,” he kissed you full on the lips, a soft whine escaping your throat, “It’s **amazing**.”_

Specific Time: 19:54

Clint leaned forward resting his hands right by your head, grinning in the manner he first had those years ago. The only difference, you weren’t struggling to get away this time, nor were your hands pinned. Clint leaned his head down, lips leaving ghosts of themselves across your jawline and eventual neck. He lightly sucked an area just above where your neck and shoulder met. You controlled your vocals, stifling them. Clint let his crotch lay down to yours, you felt his hands slide down your arms, to your sides, to your hips… He kissed you full on your lips, and suddenly pulled on your hips, making your thighs slide across his. Clint practically towered over your form in this position, and you didn’t want to complain. He gently began to rub both of your areas together, both of your suits making the feeling less intense than what you had hoped for. It just made you more needy.

“C-Clint--” You moaned into the passionate kiss that sent static through your brain. He began to unzip the top portion of your suit, popping it open. His hands traveled all along your exposed flesh, making goosebumps everywhere. You didn’t hesitate to unzip his suit as you exchanged passions. He groaned into you as your fingers found the waistband of his suit’s pants. His hips stopped moving, and his eyes opened.

“Computer, don’t let S.H.I.E.L.D see any of this."


	2. Troubling News

_Avengers Tower_

_3 Years ago_

_“So, Legolas, how often do you **submit?** ” Tony leaned on the bar counter in the gigantic living space that was the top floor of the Avengers Tower. You had your arm around Clint’s shoulders, and he was leaning into you. Clint rolled his eyes._

_“Tony,” he told the billionaire, “Only you would care to notice,” You chuckled at Tony’s smirk._

_“It seems right,” You shrugged, “He’s obviously trying to compensate for the lack of a Mrs. Potts in his life. He doesn’t have a Steven Rogers to annoy about the fact he is still a virgin, a Bruce Banner to debate several branches of science with, or a Thor to compare who has the better girlfriend to benefit the world. So his only outlet is to try and demean the only other man present,” You turned towards Tony, “Which, by the way, is just very sad considering you could literally find anything else to fill in your time with.” Clint whistled, giving you a high-five. You laughed, looking at a steaming Tony Stark._

Outskirts of Wiesbaden, Germany

Time Prior to Incident: 27 Days

Specific Time: 1:49

You looked through your scope, watching the abundance of different people passing by the one you had your eyes on. He was a tall man, thick muscled, his facial features you also noted. His head was wide, his cheekbones high, his eyes gray-green, a small scar below his right eye. You turned away from the scope, writing down what he looked like. S.H.I.E.L.D'S file wasn’t very informative on this man. You didn’t have his name, alias of any kind, and not to mention that the file was out of date on how he looked. It concerned you. This man obviously don’t want to be anywhere near S.H.I.E.L.D’S radar. He hid so well, if you didn’t have a file on him you might as well have not even noticed him.

You looked through the scope, finding him exactly where he was, but this time with a group of people near him. That could have just been a coincidence, if one of them didn’t also have also file. This file was much more recent, full of events this guy was apart of. He wasn’t as tall as his accomplice, nor nearly as physically impressive, but, according to the file, he didn’t need to be. Expert in several different weapon types, master of mixed martial arts, and also one of H.Y.D.R.A’S top agents.

You studied the group in detail, making small notes of what they said. It was extremely difficult from such a distance, and you weren’t the best lip reader, but you were good enough to catch a major part of the discussion.

“Holy _shit_ ,” You quickly scribbled down everything you could before they vanished from your viewpoint. You instantly grabbed your notebook, reading over everything with care. “They plan on destroying S.H.I.E.L.D from the very inside… Starting with the High Council, Directors, Then Agents of high level… the list goes on,” You ran a hand through your hair. “I have to tell Clint.”

The frosted patches crunched beneath your boots as you ran across the roofs of Wiesbaden. This part of Germany was experiencing a very crisp winter. You jumped over a ledge and landed on another roof, your rifle strapped to your back to not make noise, and your notebook and pencil in your coat pocket.You quickly called Clint with your earpiece. You needed to get away from the targets to make sure no one could scramble your signal and listen to your conversation, at least not very well. The communication devices handed to you both were outdated. S.H.I.E.L.D had been very cautious with any lf it’s devices recently. It didn’t take Clint long to answer.

“What did you find?” His voice was hushed. You looked around at the street below, watching for anyone that could be considered dangerous, which was likely everyone, and quickly relayed the information you had written down. Clint was silent for a few seconds, suddenly cursing.

“This isn’t good, Agent Barton. How are we going to proceed?” You waited for his response over the other line.

“We can’t rush this, but S.H.I.E.L.D needs everything you just told me. Our communication system in the Quinjet will have what you need to contact Director Fury and Agent Coulson,” Clint hummed a small tune. “I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”

Quinjet Console

Specific Time: 2:03

“Agent (L/n), this is troubling news,” Phil shook his head as Nick continued. “The informant has told me that the bug still hasn’t been found. We may be looking at the very collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D, itself,” You turned your head, watching the light snowfall. “It would be best for you and Agent Barton to discontinue reporting to us. If there is a bug, then they may already know of this meeting. I need you two to continue with the mission. See you in due time.” The call ended, leaving you feeling drained. Clint was leaned against the wall behind you, soaking in what he just heard.

“We need to find their base, and quickly do what we need to there,” Clint rubbed his eyes, “The conversation that was viewed could easily either be a tiny piece of a gigantic puzzle, or a trap,” You hung your head, gripping the edges of the Quinjet’s main computer. “We have to be prepared for absolutely anything and everything.”

“We can only let one person leave this place, the other will have to remain guarded,” You stood, straight-backed, your professional sense taking over, “We cannot afford for this vessel to be compromised. The information here is worth more than if,” Why did you falter? “Than if…” You cleared your throat, your words spoken quietly, “Than if you or I were to be caught.” You heard nothing from Clint, except his breathing patterns. Your mind was screaming at itself for saying such things, what you spoke of was mainly a reminder for yourself. Clint had been doing this longer than you had, he already knew the risks.

“Very well put, Agent (L/n). We just need to devise a proper plan of action before proceeding,” Clint leaned forward from the wall, “However when the time comes to Infiltrate wherever it is these HYDRA agents have hidden themselves, we will both need to enter the base,” Clint walked to the computer, typing something with one hand, “But, until that time comes, we will need to set up a better communication signal for only the two of us. We can’t constantly leave the premises when we need to relay information to one another,” You looked at the screen, watching different scramble defector programs appear. Clint pressed one final key, and crossed his arms at his work. “There. Now all we have to do is speak softly.” You crossed your arms, examining the screen.

“You have the better eyesight, at least from a distance, and more experience working this kind of mission. If I may make a suggestion, it would be far better for you to be our spy while I stay and record down anything we deem necessary,” You clasped your hands behind you back, waiting for denial or acceptance.

“Good suggestion, however, you’re faster than I am. I do remember a specific device that I’ve used quite often, mainly to shade my eyes,” You couldn’t help the smile on your face as Clint went to retrieve his purple sunglasses. He plugged in a USB device to the computer's main screen, and pressed a button on the nose bridge. The screen immediately showed the boots of Clint Barton and the tips of your own footwear. He placed the pair on your face, checking the monitor to make sure that everything was working properly.

“What would you have me do exactly?” You inquired. Clint nodded to the screen.

“From this vantage point, I can easily see what you see. If you miss something, I’ll catch it. If I miss it, you catch it. If we both miss it, we can have the computer reevaluate the footage when you start a new day. Then, if we happen to not see anything, and the computer does, well know,” Clint turned to you, “Sound like a plan?” You nodded.

“When will we try this out?”

“Today. But you need rest, you have a big day ahead of you. I need to be sure there isn’t a way for us to be found.”

S.H.I.E.L.D Recovery Unit

Current Time: 15:29

Time passed since incident: 7 days

“Agent Barton, it may be a while for them to be able to regain full consciousness. All you can do is speak to them, just don’t expect much back from them,”

“Thank you...”


End file.
